


Scars

by InkNPixieDust



Series: Resident Evil Kinktober 2020 [2]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Hurt No Comfort, Kinktober, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Not so kinky, Post-Resident Evil 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:27:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26778091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkNPixieDust/pseuds/InkNPixieDust
Summary: Albert Wesker has always loved Jack Krauser's scars.
Relationships: Jack Krauser/Albert Wesker
Series: Resident Evil Kinktober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1961323
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2 of Kinktober! This prompt is Scars.
> 
> Some out of character softness from Albert and Jack but I like to think they were soft for each other. I'm still learning the tags and all that. So. Anyway, enjoy.

Jack Krauser had not lived an easy life. He had fought and struggled and died. His body was a canvas, scars used as the paint to preserve his story. The blond man stood in front of the steam-blanketed mirror, leaned over the sink as he brushed his teeth. Scarred lips parted to exhale a soft groan as he straightened up, dropping his toothbrush in the cup and looking at the fresh scars on his torso. It had been a little over a year since Spain, the injuries healed finally. He'd spent months unconscious, unsure if he was going to survive the injuries.

He flicked off the light in the bathroom and stretched, bare feet carrying him into the luxurious bedroom where his lover waited. The bed was massive, a king-size four poster thing that was fancier than Jack would have ever chosen with black satin sheets and blood red pillowcases. The carpet was soft beneath his feet, a deep navy that made him think of the ocean in a storm. The walk-in closet in the corner sat open, light on and spilling across the room to illuminate the figure on the bed.

Jack smiled at him. Albert looked regal even when he was prepared to sleep, back propped against the headboard as he read a book, long legs stretched out in front of him. Before him sat a god the soldier actually believed in.

When the door opened and the light in the bathroom turned off, crimson eyes flicked up from the book as a smile spread across his lips. Jack looked better than he had nearly a year ago when Albert had hauled him into the helicopter, ribs and heart exposed but somehow still weakly beating. Now, skin had been mended, injuries erased that others would have died from. Before him stood a soldier worthy of a god.

"Are you coming to lay down?" Albert asked, sitting up a bit more and setting his book aside, turning to rest his feet on the floor. He watched Jack circle the bed and move to stand in front of the window. Rain dripped gently down the glass, the soldier watching it for a moment.

"Yeah. I'm coming," He finally turned away from the window, lightning flashing and illuminating Jack briefly as he dropped the towel off his hips and pulled a pair of sweats on. He saw Albert smile at him again and he shook his head with a chuckle. "You look like a high school girl with a crush." 

Albert scowled at him and threw a pillow at him while Jack crawled across the bed to him, laughing again and knocking the pillow away. He grabbed the older man's ankle and pulled him across the bed, kissing his ankle, his thigh, his hip, his stomach. Jack paused to look up at Albert, scarred hands gripping Albert's thighs as he studied his face.

"Now who's the school girl with the crush?" A golden brow raised and his lips curved into a smirk, especially when the soldier just made a quiet noise and moved up his body to kiss the older man. Wesker's hands threaded through his hair as Jack's teeth gently snapped and caught Albert's lip, tugging gently as their hips rocked together.

Albert gently pushed Jack over onto his back, the gentle patter of rain as steady as their heartbeats as he stared down at his soldier, straddling his hips with a hand on his chest. He leaned down over him and kissed his face, tongue tracing the scars there all the way down his face until his tongue slipped into Jack's mouth.

Albert's hands stayed in his hair, pulling lightly as they kissed. Sharing breath, sharing a piece of their souls. He closed his eyes, Jack's arms clasping around him, Albert's living security blanket. Everything was right when he was in his soldier's arms.

Albert finally broke the kiss, sitting up over him again with fingers splayed over the scar on his chest that a certain agent had given him. Well. The numerous scars there now. Albert remembered seeing the injuries that had caused these scars. 

He had stood over Jack's broken form surrounded by a pool of blood as his heart took it's last few beats, skin and bone peeled away to expose the muscle. He could see tendrils of...something slowly wrapping around the heart in Las Plagas' best effort to keep the organ beating, to preserve its host. Albert had refused to give him up so easily.

And he hadn't. Now, he had his soldier back, strong as ever. Albert leaned down to kiss him again, a sweet and chaste connection of their lips that was so unlike them when they were in the world that existed beyond their bedroom. Then, his lips travelled downwards, finding more scars. 

Jack's body was a roadmap in Albert's soul, the scars roads leading him home to the only place he ever felt truly comfortable. He was a spectacular man, to be able to provide a tyrant such a comfort. 

Albert traced his scars with adept fingers and a warm mouth, his tongue sliding across the grooves of the damaged skin like a river in a gorge. He knew all these scars, stories of narrow evasions of death. Several of them, he'd repaired himself. Some of his favorites were an alligator bite on the back of one calf and a bite mark on Jack's thigh that Albert had given him during one particularly hot and heavy session together.

Jack's back curved like the bow he loved so much, hand on the back of Albert's neck and arousal evident under his sweats. His erection was given no attention, no touch beyond the occasional brush of Albert's toned stomach against it. Normally, they fucked rough and hard, objects in the bedroom at risk for being broken. Tonight was different. 

Tonight, they were as gentle as the rain that tapped the window.

Bare skin sliding against bare skin, a sheen of sweat on both as hands grabbed at one another, as legs curled around hips. It was exhilarating, leaving both men breathless like a free fall from an airplane, like holding onto a railing of a runaway train. Their hearts beat together, their lungs breathed together. Their bodies came together.

"I love you," Albert murmured against the broad chest that his face was pressed to, sheets rumpled around them. He listened to the steady heartbeat in the other man's chest, an anchor in the storm of Wesker's life. Albert closed his eyes, kissing the scar that had spawned from the bitch in red and her stupid little agent's best attempts to end Jack's life.

"I love you, too," Jack purred, fingers brushing along Albert's spine gently. He laid back with his other arm under his head, the soldier relaxed to a degree that he hadn't been in a year. This was the first time they'd gotten to do anything remotely exciting and Jack savored it.

These were his favorite moments, Jack thought to himself as he faded off to sleep.

These had been his favorite nights, Albert thought to himself as he watched the rain outside. He sat at his desk in the corner, looking at the bed with a forlorn sigh. The black sheets hadn't been slept in for days, pillows untouched. 

The hospital bed that had been wheeled in sat by the bed still, bloodstains still on the sheets even if the body was no longer there. Those sheets, the bloodstains were the last parts of Jack he had. Albert hadn't even been able to find the blade the soldier always carried, assuming that damn agent had taken it. 

It had only been a month since that business in Spain had concluded. Since Jack had been recovered, chest torn open as the skin and muscle of his chest had been burned away and ribs broken, exposing the heart beneath. No, not Jack. Jack was gone long before they ever got to him.

Albert had tried.

He'd tried...so damn hard.

In the end the older man had been left cradling the man's head, leaned over him sobbing while he begged him to come back. Sometimes, even a God's plea goes unanswered. 

Albert stood up and entered the bathroom, staring at his own reflection. At the scar that stretched across his chest. In its death throes, Las Plagas had gouged open Albert's skin, trying to split him apart while the bladed parasite thrashed and flailed. 

Albert apologized to it.

His fingers brushed the scar and he sighed heavily, finally laying on the cold bed and looking at the spot Jack would have been laying. Jack Krauser, immortalized forever as a scar on his soul.

Some scars hurt worse than others.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for the hurt. I really am. I either do smut or angst and this one apparently wanted to be the latter.
> 
> Totally open to pairing requests and ideas.
> 
> Twitter: @InkNPixieDust


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